Dr. Michael Cullen's preliminary trial hearing was scheduled for February 1, 1991 and he knew full well he would not be in the country to attend. He had spent a lonely Christmas and New Years Eve holed up in his high rise apartment, shutting himself off from the city and her people, sleeping all day, venturing out only at night for food and alcohol. He had also purchased a new Motorola 'Flip' cellular telephone, a new advanced item of space age technology, as he had stopped using his 'land line' with all the calls from reporters and disappointed friends and colleagues. When his former colleagues read about his criminal situation in the Sun, the Herald and theTribune, they were disheartened, and, what with the all the stories on the local news, add to that the investigative report that was running on WGN about the 'prescripton mill' he and Azir were running, Michael could find no solace, so he shut himself off from the world, as all pariahs should. So he gave his escape from the law much thought and through his deduction and reasoning he concluded the best place to hide would be Argentina, after all, if all those infamous Nazi's could hide out there for decades and never be brought to Justice, then why couldn't he? And Michael was absolutely correct in his assumption.
So this was what he had planned to do: Michael would purchase a one way domestic flight from O'Hare down to Love Field, then he would book a one way flight out of the Dallas Fort Worth International Airport to the Ezeiza International Airport in Buenos Aires. However, it was illegal to bring more than $10,000 in cash out of the country, so he, with the money he took back from his lawyer, went out and purchased over $200,000 in gold and platinum watches a total of 21 watches by Rolex, Tag Heuer, and Breitling. Michael would keep the money in his long leather trench coat and the expensive time pieces would be secure in his carry on luggage, if anyone asked at airport security he would say he was a jeweler on his way to a dealer in Highland Park and Up Town Dallas, a plausible lie. Now our Michael spoke only, un poco de Espanol, but he did know Greek and Latin from medical terminology, and he had dated a ravishing Italian exchange student back in college and had learned, un po' di Italiano, and Italian and Spanish are pretty much the same, in a way. Knowing he would have a ten hour flight from Texas to Argentina Michael purchased a Sony Walk Man and a set of Berlitz language cassette tapes, figuring he could use that time to study Spanish and Italian, for the vast majority of 'Portenos', as the people of Buenos Aires called themselves, were made up of mostly Italian, German, Swiss, and Spanish descendants.
It was a good plan and Michael had the determination and temerity to carry it out, but the only problem with his plan was flying. He knew he had a better chance of fleeing the country departing out of DFW, he had a valid passport and no one knew anything about his crimes in Chicago. The problem was he was terrified of flying. After that horrific day in May, the 25th of 1979. Michael had refused to fly ever since the day his parents, along with 271 other souls, lost their lives that warm day, as flight #191 a DC-10 went into a roll shortly after take off when the jet lost the left engine, whereupon the fully loaded plane crashed and burst into flames about 8 miles away, on the beginning of a tragic Memorial Day weekend. Michael had tried so hard to put that day out of his mind for many years, but now he thought about that day, when he drove his parents to O'Hare, he had just turned 23 and had decided to forego the annual trip, so he did not go on vacation with his parents to Los Angeles, and his decision to stay in Chicago that summer with his Italian girlfriend saved his life.
Michael's plan was set in motion and the night before he was to depart the city of his birth, the Chicago that he loved, with it's magnificent architecture, the relaxed environment, music, and the warm friendly people. Michael knew there was no other place like his majestic city anywhere on Earth! Michael knew deep in his heart once he left this 'garden in a city' he would never be able to return again to the shores of Lake Michigan, on pain of imprisonment. So, on his last night in the Windy City, Michael drove down to the south side to Bert's, to get the best deep dish pizza the world had ever tasted. It was even old, gray bearded Bert who handed Michael his pizza to go and as Michael departed the little pizzeria Michael felt a lump in his throat and he knew leaving this city would be the most difficult choice he would ever make in his life, but time was moving quickly and he had to go away. Michael was an intelligent, understanding, compassionate man, but he had no courage and could not, and would not, tolerate years of incarceration. So he set his mind on a new path and a new life, for he was determined keep his freedom at any cost, even if that meant leaving behind the city that he loved, Chicago, the city of his birth, the city of his rise, and the place of his meteoric fall. This was a bitter, jagged little pill to swallow, but Michael had ruined his life so he had to do everything within his power to create a new life for himself, somewhere far away, where no one would come looking for him. Time was moving fast and he must be on his way, so he could keep his freedom and his sanity.
So this was what he had planned to do: Michael would purchase a one way domestic flight from O'Hare down to Love Field, then he would book a one way flight out of the Dallas Fort Worth International Airport to the Ezeiza International Airport in Buenos Aires. However, it was illegal to bring more than $10,000 in cash out of the country, so he, with the money he took back from his lawyer, went out and purchased over $200,000 in gold and platinum watches a total of 21 watches by Rolex, Tag Heuer, and Breitling. Michael would keep the money in his long leather trench coat and the expensive time pieces would be secure in his carry on luggage, if anyone asked at airport security he would say he was a jeweler on his way to a dealer in Highland Park and Up Town Dallas, a plausible lie. Now our Michael spoke only, un poco de Espanol, but he did know Greek and Latin from medical terminology, and he had dated a ravishing Italian exchange student back in college and had learned, un po' di Italiano, and Italian and Spanish are pretty much the same, in a way. Knowing he would have a ten hour flight from Texas to Argentina Michael purchased a Sony Walk Man and a set of Berlitz language cassette tapes, figuring he could use that time to study Spanish and Italian, for the vast majority of 'Portenos', as the people of Buenos Aires called themselves, were made up of mostly Italian, German, Swiss, and Spanish descendants.
It was a good plan and Michael had the determination and temerity to carry it out, but the only problem with his plan was flying. He knew he had a better chance of fleeing the country departing out of DFW, he had a valid passport and no one knew anything about his crimes in Chicago. The problem was he was terrified of flying. After that horrific day in May, the 25th of 1979. Michael had refused to fly ever since the day his parents, along with 271 other souls, lost their lives that warm day, as flight #191 a DC-10 went into a roll shortly after take off when the jet lost the left engine, whereupon the fully loaded plane crashed and burst into flames about 8 miles away, on the beginning of a tragic Memorial Day weekend. Michael had tried so hard to put that day out of his mind for many years, but now he thought about that day, when he drove his parents to O'Hare, he had just turned 23 and had decided to forego the annual trip, so he did not go on vacation with his parents to Los Angeles, and his decision to stay in Chicago that summer with his Italian girlfriend saved his life.
Michael's plan was set in motion and the night before he was to depart the city of his birth, the Chicago that he loved, with it's magnificent architecture, the relaxed environment, music, and the warm friendly people. Michael knew there was no other place like his majestic city anywhere on Earth! Michael knew deep in his heart once he left this 'garden in a city' he would never be able to return again to the shores of Lake Michigan, on pain of imprisonment. So, on his last night in the Windy City, Michael drove down to the south side to Bert's, to get the best deep dish pizza the world had ever tasted. It was even old, gray bearded Bert who handed Michael his pizza to go and as Michael departed the little pizzeria Michael felt a lump in his throat and he knew leaving this city would be the most difficult choice he would ever make in his life, but time was moving quickly and he had to go away. Michael was an intelligent, understanding, compassionate man, but he had no courage and could not, and would not, tolerate years of incarceration. So he set his mind on a new path and a new life, for he was determined keep his freedom at any cost, even if that meant leaving behind the city that he loved, Chicago, the city of his birth, the city of his rise, and the place of his meteoric fall. This was a bitter, jagged little pill to swallow, but Michael had ruined his life so he had to do everything within his power to create a new life for himself, somewhere far away, where no one would come looking for him. Time was moving fast and he must be on his way, so he could keep his freedom and his sanity.
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